


Word Play

by ZaKai



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Art/Story Collaboration, Drabble, One Shot, light humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27609926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZaKai/pseuds/ZaKai
Summary: Not every attempt at humor is appreciated.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	Word Play

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hikaru9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikaru9/gifts).



**Word Play**

Aziraphale hummed happily to himself as he put the finishing touches on his lunch—a turkey and swiss melt on a toasted brioche bun, if you must ask… even though, you really didn’t ask. He gently pressed down on the top of the bun, sealing in all of the delicious pieces of his masterpiece so that when he finally took that first delectable bite, nothing would escape onto his plate; or, worse, his lap. 

Not that such a thing had ever happened before, of course.

He gave a satisfied sigh of approval and anticipation before picking up the plate and stepping out of the small kitchenette into the bookshop. His smile grew even wider as he walked. Being surrounded by the sights and smells of his beloved books was just as satisfying, if not more so, than having a scrumptious offering of food at his disposal. 

Mentally, he paused. 

Yes. 

Definitely more satisfying, but not by much. It wasn’t as if this were a contest anyway. 

Aziraphale walked through several rows of books toward his desk, stopping briefly here and there to straighten this book, or that pile, or to give his globe—an old, collectable that he had acquired in the old world when it was younger than it is now—a little twirl. 

He was still humming to himself as he settled down into his comfortable desk chair. With one hand he pulled out a couple of blank papers to set on the desk before putting his plate on the papers, taking the time to once again gaze longingly at this little piece of heaven on earth that he was about to bless and consume. 

Putting his hands together, Aziraphale opened his mouth, then stopped as the door to his shop opened, little bells jingling as it did so, and Crowley walked in carrying a large wicker basket. 

“Hiya Angel,” Crowley said as he let himself inside.

Feeling slightly put out, Aziraphale said, “We’re closed.”

Crowley shrugged as he kept walking, the door closing behind him. “Okay,” he said and started looking around.

Aziraphale’s face scrunched into something akin to, but not quite, annoyance. They had not parted in the best of terms the last time they had been in each others’ presence and the timer that Aziraphale had put on to gage the amount of time he was going to let himself be miffed was still going. 

“Where is it?” Crowley could be heard muttering to himself.

“Where is what?” Aziraphale asked curiously, then remembered he was still supposed to be irritated and repeated in a more appropriately displeased sounding tone, “Where is what?”

Crowley walked near the desk then motioned toward the sandwich. “You didn’t make me one?”

“I didn’t know you were coming, now did I?” Aziraphale asked with a slight note of exasperation. “I can’t be expected to prepare you food if I don’t know if you are coming,” he pointed out.

Crowley grinned widely. “So you’re saying that if I’d told you I was coming over, you would have invited me for lunch?”

Aziraphale opened his mouth, about to say that of course he would have, then again remembered he was supposed to still be annoyed, and said, “Definitely not,” in what he hoped sound both dignified and convincing. When Crowley just grinned again, Aziraphale pointed at the basked. “Why are you carrying a basket?” he asked, hoping to deflect the conversation.

Crowley stepped away and started looking around. “It’s not a basket. It’s a portal,” he said casually.

“A portal? To where?” Aziraphale asked.

Crowley stopped for a moment, then said, “Ah ha!” before confidently starting to walk, obviously having found what he was looking for.

Aziraphale followed him and pressed, “To where?”

“Hell,” Crowley commented casually as he set the basket down next to the table the globe stood on. 

“You can’t just bring a portal to Hell in here! In my shop!” Aziraphale commented with genuine exasperation this time. “Take it out of here. At once!”

Crowley ignored him and picked up the globe, looking at it with an approving look. “This will do nicely, I think,” he said, then turned his head toward Aziraphale. “You don’t mind if I borrow this, do you?”

“I most certainly think that I do,” Aziraphale said passionately. 

“I’ll give it back. We both know the world is going to hell. I’m just making a case for it,” Crowley said lightly.

Aziraphale gave Crowley a look before motioning at the globe and saying, “The world is not going to hell, and it is definitely not going to hell in a hand basket.” At this, Crowley burst out laughing, as if that was what he had come for.

“I said I’d give it back, Angel. No need to stop eating your lunch over it,” Crowley told him.

“And when, exactly, would you be bringing it back?” Aziraphale demanded, having no intention to let Crowley take one of his prized positions.

“When Hell freezes over,” Crowley said with high amusement.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley for a long silent moment, clearly not amused, then reached out and took the globe from Crowley. 

“Leave. Now,” Aziraphale demanded in a very real bland tone.

“Come on now, you’re not going to be upset forever, are you?” Crowley asked as he picked up the basket that may or may not be a portal to hell.

“Not forever. But I am adding more time on the timer,” he pointed out with a sniff.

“You have a timer? Really?” Crowley asked with a laugh as Aziraphale set the globe back down. 

“Out. Now,” Aziraphale demanded, starting to push Crowley toward the door with no resistance.

Crowley laughed and asked, “Does that mean you’re putting me in… ‘time out’?”

This time Aziraphale didn’t answer and when they got to the front, he opened the door and motioned toward the bustling world beyond.

“Oh, come now, don’t be like this,” Crowley commented as he stepped backward out of the shop. “You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy a little bit of ‘word play’.” He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows, which could be seen over the tops of his sunglasses.

At that, Aziraphale closed the door on Crowley and locked it. He paused, letting the short interaction play through his mind, then a small smile touched his face as he saw the humor in it.

Maybe he wouldn’t add more time after all.

This is a story/art collaboration with https//:wargoddess9.tumblr.com  
The art can be found https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/642000110276050949/778086109401448449/CamScanner_11-16-2020_19.35.jpg 


End file.
